Child of the Horde
by Saerry Snape
Summary: When two Tauren stumble across an abandoned child, it changes everything in their lives - updated since completion of Bones, please read updated chapters
1. Discovery of a Child

**Author's Note**: All characters in story excepting a few either have been played or are currently being/have been played in WoW by myself, my husband, friends, or guildmates on various servers.

Now that _Bones_ is complete, I am going back to revise this story. Somehow I've lost my timeline that I made out and have had to rework it…which means a few of the things here don't correspond with _Bones_. And my timeline is pulled from the unofficial one on WoWWiki because it just makes more sense, damnit. But moving on!

To new readers, it is _highly_ suggested that you read _Bones_ before reading this fic. Since _CotH_ does, after all, follow four years after the last events in _Bones._

* * *

"Caren! Caren, slow down!"

With a huff, Carentareta came to halt, her hooves stirring up dust, and ground the end of her staff against the earth. She then turned and fixed her younger sister with a frown, waiting impatiently as the younger Tauren made to catch up with her. When she did, she bent over with one hand clutching the hilt of her sword and panted heavily. Caren did the best impression a Tauren could do of arching an eyebrow and peered down at her sibling's back, which was covered by a huge Troll-made shield splashed with a grinning face.

"Its not my fault you're so slow, Lis," she said. "I warned you, didn't I, about how it would be being a warrior?"

The younger Tauren, Alisadegeta, snorted and straightened up, glaring at her slightly taller sister.

"And its not mine that you're a barbarian," she snapped right back. She thrust a finger in her sibling's face, which was batted aside with the head of the staff, and continued, "No self-respecting druid loves battle as much as you do!"

Caren practically snarled at that, starting to walk again angrily towards the border into the Barrens. Alisa cursed in Taur-ahe and jogged after her, clutching hard at the strap that held her shield to her back to keep it from bouncing painfully against her spine.

"Caren! Blast it, Caren, you know I…"

Her sister whirled on her and the warrior took a nervous step back, frightened when eyes she knew well gleamed cat-like and yellow and fangs had replaced flat teeth.

"I have my reasons for being how I am," snarled her elder, a growl lacing her voice. "I don't care what you, litle sister, or anyone else think of them."

Alisa swallowed and said, "Alright, alright…no more bashing your way of life. Promise. Now, please, stop doing the thing with your eyes, its scary."

The elder of the pair snorted and turned to continue walking, never letting the younger see if she had allowed her eyes to return to normal. Sighing, she just plodded after her sister, doing her best to keep up as they made their way into the Barrens and towards Camp Taurajo. Caren waved at a few of the Tauren standing within the camp, who snorted gruffly in her direction as they recognized her, and kept walking. This left Alisa only a few moments to ask the flight master if there had been any sightings of the Alliance in the area of late.

"Heard something about a pair of unarmed humans being seen somewhere," he replied. "Pair of Trolls chased them into Southern Barrens and lost them when they ran into the Quillboars. I wouldn't worry about them."

Nodding, she turned and ran to catch up with her sister, who was standing in the middle of the main road in the Barrens where it intersected with that coming from Mulgore. As she came up beside her, rubbing at an itch on her white-streaked nose, she informed her of what the flight master had said.

"Unarmed?" repeated Caren, surprised. "That's sheer madness. And damn Trolls…they were probably some lost peasants that they scared to death."

"What do we care?" growled Alisa, glaring at her sibling. "Humans kill us every chance they get. If you don't recall, they killed our father."

Caren bared her teeth at that, eyes flashing feline briefly again. "I recall well enough, thank you. Don't need reminding since I was there and saw what the wretches did to him with my own eyes."

Alisa winced at that and hunched her shoulders, unable to look at her sibling now. She continually forgot that their father, a hunter, had been taking her elder sister out hunting on the border between Ashenvale and the Barrens when he'd been killed. Three Humans had come upon him whilst he was tracking a zhevra that had wandered close to the border and had killed him without pause. Caren had been back within the Warsong Outriders encampment with Kazhan, their father's white wolf, since he didn't dare risk her getting too close to the border. Kazhan had known the moment his master had died and had sat on Caren when two Orcs who guarded the border brought in their father's body. She had been filled with rage and had wanted nothing more than to seek out revenge on the killers, half-shifting into a bear even though she had only just begun her Druid training then and had not the skill to perform the transformation. There had just been that much rage in her that it brought the skill partially to life.

Kazhan still lived despite his master's death and he kept company with their mother since the both of them were now wandering out in the world. The slightly ailing wolf was physically unable to accompany them but anyone that dared try anything against their mother got the bite of his sharp fangs.

"I remember," murmured Alisa. "Sorry, Caren."

Caren snorted in response and waved a hand, grumbling, "Forget it. Let's just head on."

"Head on?" repeated her sister as the elder started walking south. "Caren, we were heading to Crossroads, not south!" She rocked to a halt and stared in shock at her sister's back, gasping, "You're not thinking of going after those _humans_ are you?!"

"Peasants, Alisa!" snapped Caren, half-turning towards her, cloak flaring. She grounded the end of her staff hard against the earth and growled, "Probably wandered out of Dustwallow Marsh and lost. More likely that they're from Theramore! And as fragile as it is now, there is still an alliance between the Horde and those there!" Sighing, she shook her head and frowned at her sister. "Whether you're coming or not, I'm going."

With that she turned and continued down the road heading south, leaving Alisa to stare after her. The younger Tauren stomped a hoof and cursed in both Taur-ahe and Orcish before jogging after her sibling.

"Caren! Wait!"

"Decided to come?" threw Caren over her shoulder.

Alisa smiled in response, saying, "Well, can't just let you wander the Barrens alone. Something might hurt you."

That brought a laugh out of the elder of the pair and she huffed, "Ha! More like something might hurt you!" She clapped her sibling on the arm, gloved fingers tightening about the chain mail that sheathed the younger Tauren's arm. "Which I wouldn't allow to happen, mind you."

They both smiled at that and continued on in companionable silence, keeping a close eye on the Thunder Lizards and Wind Serpents as they walked. When they passed through the Field of Giants with its Silithid infestation, Caren warned Alisa to stay in the middle of the road, walking behind her with her staff held at the ready and eyes glaring at every insect that skittered close. But they made it through the Field with no difficulties and continued on towards the Quillboar camps, finding the corpse of a human man lying on the outskirts.

The corpse was dressed in cloth except for a shoddy breastplate made of leather and was clutching a bloodied knife of equally shoddy make in his fist. Caren crouched next to him and reached through the arrows bristling along his back to pull back his shirt slightly. She pulled off her gauntlet and felt of his neck, frowning, then stood, tugging it back on over her hand.

"He's still warm," she muttered, eyes darting around. "So not dead for too long. If he's here, then the other must be around nearby."

"Probably," said Alisa, having drawn her bow and knocking an arrow after they'd found the corpse. She was only able to fire off maybe two or three shots before an enemy reached her but those shots usually hit true. "But where could they have gone? And are we sure that _it_ doesn't have better arms than this one."

Her sister shook her head and replied, "Its his mate." She held up a silver locket on a leather cord that she'd tugged off the man's neck. Flicking it open, a small sketch of a human female was visible to the younger Tauren before her sister closed it and stuffed the locket into one of the bags at her belt. She then looked around and said, "I'll shift and see if I can track her."

Alisa just nodded and watched with entranced eyes as her sibling's frame shrank and shifted into that of a horned lion slightly larger than those in the Barrens. The beast sniffed at the ground around the corpse then padded off some distance, growling as it looked up towards the main mass of the Quillboar encampment. Then it turned, nose to the ground and followed another path that headed towards a small mass of rocks surrounded by brush. She followed, bow held at the ready and her eyes darting to and from the Quillboars around them.

Caren shifted out of her cat form as she approached the rocks, melding back into her own with a grace her sibling found awing. The shamans could certainly shift the same as the druids but there was something beautiful in the latter than the former just couldn't match. She watched anxiously as her sister approached the rocks and crouched, peering at something behind the thick brush that surrounded it.

"We won't harm you," she said in Taur-ahe to what Alisa could only assume was the human female. It was fairly evident why she was speaking in their native tongue – the Orcish they spoke to the rest of the Horde probably would have scared the poor human out of her wits and sent her running straight into the Quillboars. The woman still couldn't understand them but their tongue was somewhat softer than that of their Orc allies.

There was some shuffling and a human face, female and haggard with pain, peered out of the brush. She stared at them for a moment then moved out of the mass of plants that shielded her from sight, revealing two arrows jutting out of her shoulder and a leg that looked to have been ravaged by one of the hyenas that wandered near the camp.

Caren winced and reached out, her hands glowing as she prepared to heal the wound, but the woman shook her head, saying something neither could understand. The elder Tauren just looked at her in confusion and said, "I'm trying to heal you."

Alisa just watched in confusion as the woman smiled tightly and reached into what she had thought was simply a bulky piece of cloth she'd had wrapped around herself. When she pulled the form of a sleeping human baby out, the younger gasped, nearly losing her grip on her bow.

Caren stared at the child then up at the woman as she held the babe out towards her, eyes pleading. She shook her head, saying, "I…"

The woman said something in a strangled tone then, agony and pain evident behind it. She gasped a moment later and would have collapsed had Caren not reached out and grabbed her shoulder, keeping her upright with that grip. Blue eyes lifted to meet hazel and the elder sibling nodded after a moment, carefully taking the human babe into the crook of her other arm.

"Caren," breathed Alisa, eyes wide at the motion. "You can't…"

"Shhh," hissed her sister, jerking her head sharply for silence. She then looked at the human woman and gently lowered her to the ground, touching her forehead and muttering a prayer to the Earth Mother under her breath. The woman couldn't understand her words but it seemed like the well-wish for an easy death was something easily caught by all beings, whether they understood the language of the other or not. She smiled and said something softly before closing her eyes, lines of pain crinkling around them. After a few moments her face went slack and even Alisa heard her breath cease on one long outward gasp.

The babe stirred then and Caren stood, walking swiftly back in the direction of the road, managing to fasten her staff onto the harness at her back with one arm. Alisa followed her at a hurried pace and hissed, "What are you _doing?!_"

The elder blinked at the younger and replied, "Honoring a mother's dying wish. She wants her child to live."

"Their kind _kill_ ours!"

"Can you kill it?" snarled Caren, gesturing at the babe that had settled and was sleeping in the crook of her arm. When Alisa blanched and took a step back, she nodded. "I didn't think so. S'only a babe…and I won't allow a child, even a human one, to be killed. That's barbarism saved for the likes of the Burning Blade and the centaurs."

She started to walk off, heading back towards the north and Camp Taurajo, but stopped when Alisa yelled after her.

"What will the tribe say? What will our _mother_ say?!"

Caren stopped then turned to regard her sibling with a solemn glance.

"Whatever they think," she said softly, "I don't care. I just know that no matter what humans have done, this babe hasn't done a thing. It doesn't deserve death when it hasn't even lived yet."

With that she turned and continued walking, leaving Alisa to trail behind her, worrying about just what would happen when they made it back to Thunder Bluff with a human child in tow.


	2. A Child Fought For

"What have you there?" growled one of the Bluffwatchers as Caren and Alisa exited the lift and walked onto the lowest center rise of Thunder Bluff. "Nothing contraband, I hope."

Caren smiled sweetly and purred, "Why no, dear Kwaaki, I don't." Her gaze hardened to ice then and she snapped, "Now go bother someone else."

Kwaaki, who had grown up alongside Caren and hadn't the courage to venture outside of Mulgore, snorted, spitting, "Don't take that tongue with me, barbarian! Or I'll…"

"Or you'll what? Hmm? Be careful what you say, Kwaa…else I might just have to tell Kazmo about it."

The large male shrank back at that, fear in his eyes at the very thought of being face to face with the one she was threatening him with. Kazmo was an Orc well known as a fighter respected by the Warsong Outriders and not someone a simple Bluffwatcher wanted to deal with. And he and Caren had been close friends and battle partners for years – there was some wild rumor of them being mates as well which neither party confirmed or denied nor gave sign of.

"Fine, fine," he growled, waving them on. "But if you get caught with something…"

"I know, I know, you'll be the first there to laugh in my face. Go back to your post, Kwaa. You are not worth my time."

Kwaaki snorted and any other Tauren male might have slapped Caren lightly with his weapon for her words. But he was frightened of the female Tauren and had been since she'd shifted into her bear form and sat on him for nearly five hours after he'd painted the fur of her arms and face blue in her sleep when they were younger.

Caren continued on past him, walking around the pond in the center of the rise and heading straight towards the flight tower, aiming to head up towards the third rise. Alisa jogged to catch up with her and caught at her armored shoulder, hissing, "You're planning to take it to Cairne?!"

Her sister made her eyebrow-arching motion and responded, "Yes," before jerking her shoulder away and continuing on up the spiraling ramp. Alisa growled and plowed after her, nearly running over a Forsaken mage walking into the flight tower from the second rise in her haste.

"Sorry, sorry!" she exclaimed, grasping at his bony shoulder, having nearly knocked him clear off the ramp. "Very sorry."

He stared at her with eyes that were just dark holes instead of the usual glowing gold ones his kind had and smiled slightly, the motion a bit twisted by the more evident decay around his jaw.

"No problem," he rasped. Then he looked up at her and frowned, asking, "You look familiar…wouldn't happen to be related to a druid, would you?"

"I have a sister that's a druid," replied Alisa. _Who is also currently out of her mind and taking a human babe to our chieftain._ "Carentareta."

He nodded and extended a gloved hand, decaying fingers jutting out of the ends. She gingerly grasped the hand and was surprised when nothing of him fell off.

"Tell her Resden sends his thanks for the save in Hillsbrad," he bid in his raspy voice.

She nodded and replied, "I will. I'm Alisa by the way."

"A pleasure," he intoned, smiling again. Then he nodded and continued on his path down the ramp, leaving her to stare after him, wondering just how her sister managed to find it within her to rescue one of the Forsaken. They were their allies, sure, but they were also once human for the most part. And they really gave her the creeps – she didn't believe that the dead should have the ability to live.

Snorting, she turned and ran on up the ramp, coming out on the top rise to see her sister standing in front of Cairne, who she could tell was disturbed even from her distance away. Quickly she jogged over there, coming to a sharp halt next to her sister and inclining her head respectfully to their chieftain. He just barely acknowledged her with a nod then turned his hard gaze on her sister again.

"What you propose is sheer madness," he intoned in a low voice so as not to attract the attention of those around. "Raising a human child…"

"What we would have, Chieftain, would be a spy," said Caren, her voice also low. And Alisa could tell that the very thought of keeping the human child alive just to spy for the Horde made her skin crawl. But when her sister got an idea in her head, she would go to any lengths to make sure she succeeded in it. "The Warchief knows the human tongue…he could teach the child. And I think he would agree this would be a good idea. Perhaps we could manage to stop all the damn attacks on Crossroads and be prepared if the Alliance decides to come after us here, Orgrimmar, or the Undercity."

Cairne frowned at that, scratching at his chin for a moment, then snorting. "I will send a message to Thrall, asking what he thinks of this matter."

Caren nodded and asked, "And the child?"

"You may keep it," replied the chieftain, surprising Alisa. He then stomped his hooves and called out to those on the high rise, his voice carrying to a few with good hearing on the second and anyone in the flight tower. With one hand resting on Caren's shoulder, he bellowed, "There is a new soul amongst us! Druid Carentareta has been granted the raising of an abandoned human child and any that threatens or harms the child will be treated as though they have harmed a fellow member of the Horde and our tribe!"

Several heads nodded but both Caren and Alisa could see the hate gleaming in the eyes of many. The younger sibling looked up at the elder, who nodded, and bowed respectfully to Cairne.

"Thank you, Chieftain, for your blessing," she intoned softly. "Though I think it best if we do not remain here."

"Indeed that would be best," said Cairne, also having noticed the emotion bristling about now. "May the blessing of the Earth Mother be with you."

Caren smiled at that and bowed again before turning and heading for the flight tower, ignoring the angry looks cast in her direction. Alisa jogged after her and hissed, "For one thing, an Forsaken mage sends his regards. Second…where are you planning to go?"

"I'm going to go talk to mother first. Then go see if the old hut near the Quillboars is still standing – it's out of the way and nearly no one will come near it." She then added, "And thanks for giving me his regards. I'll be sure to tell the loon he doesn't need to thank me next time I see him."

"What am I supposed to do whilst you're off hiding?" exclaimed the younger of the pair.

Caren gave her a confused look and replied, "I don't see where you're going. This is _my_ thing to do, Lis. You don't have to take part in it if you don't want. If all else, you can stay here and bring me the news from the Warchief when the Chieftain gets his response."

"I suppose I can do that but…"

"But what?"

"Just…" Alisa sighed and gave her sister an exasperated look, saying, "Just be careful."

Caren smiled and reached out to grip her arm, squeezing it gently. "I'll be fine," she assured. "Don't worry." With that she turned and continued on into the flight tower, disappearing down the ramp towards the lowest rise. Alisa sighed after she had vanished from sight and looked back towards Cairne, who was handing a rolled up scroll to a young warrior and giving him instructions in a low voice.

"Don't worry, she says," she muttered, shaking her head. "Could've told me what else to do whilst waiting for the axe to drop."

* * *

As Caren approached her mother's hut near the edge of Bloodhoof Village, the huge white wolf dozing outside twitched. He lifted his huge head, golden eyes alert, and came to his feet as he caught her scent. A greeting was growled at her as she came near him and she dropped a gauntleted hand onto the big wolf's head.

"Hello, Az," she said with a smile. "Have you been taking good care of Mother?"

"I take care far more than he does," said a voice from within the hut. Then her mother appeared, her dark fur sprinkled with gray and long gray hair streaming across her shoulders. "Good of you to finally visit, daughter."

Caren straightened, shifting the sleeping babe in the crook of her arm, and intoned, "I've been meaning to but…things have been busy."

"You mean you've been bustling about with that _Orc_ of yours."

"Mother, I didn't come here to fight about that again. Please, let it rest…you are never going to change my mind about Kaz." She frowned and added, "I actually came here to ask for your advice."

"_My_ advice?" exclaimed her mother Nomri. "Why the Chieftain must have died because it's been a decade since you asked for my advice!"

The wolf, Kazhan, growled at that moment and rose slightly onto his hindlegs, sniffing at the bundle in Caren's arms. Nomri frowned at him then glared at the bundle, asking, "What's that you have there, hmm? Some half-blood child you and your Orc made?"

"MOTHER!" exclaimed Caren, taking a step back with nostrils flaring. "By the Earth Mother, for the last time there is nothing between Kaz and I!" She snorted then and spat, "Your advice be damned then! I won't stand here and have you badmouth my friend. Not again!"

With that she turned and started to storm off, intending to head directly towards the old hut, but that was halted when the babe that had been curled up peacefully in her arm decided to wake. It swiftly realized that it was not with its mother and began to cry, drawing the attention of the Brave's that kept watch around Bloodhoof. Caren cursed under her breath and began rocking the babe, whispering soothing words in Taur-ahe that she could remember her mother saying to a little Alisa when she'd been in tears.

After a few moments the babe calmed and blinked up at her with teary blue eyes, little face flushed with the effort from screaming. She blinked right back at the little being and touched a round cheek with a finger, surprised when two tiny hands reached out and grabbed it in their own.

From behind her she heard her mother growl, "What is _that_?"

"It's a human child," replied Caren, not moving her eyes off the now awake babe. "Parents were killed by the Quillboars in Southern Barrens. I couldn't just leave it there to die."

"You should have."

Turning, she stared at Nomri, who was glaring at her with angry eyes.

"Mother, you can't be serious."

"I am very much so!" exclaimed Nomri, stomping a hoof. She pointed at the babe, who was entranced by the large finger in its grasp, and snarled, "It and its kind killed your father…or have you forgotten that?"

Caren scowled, spitting, "I remember that well enough. And what you don't seem to understand, Mother, is that a human raised without human company will not feel the need to stand against us." She shook her head and said, "I see I'll get no help from you. Goodbye."

"Leaving again?" yelled Nomri after her retreating back as she headed towards the lake, intending to walk along it to get to the road that lead towards Camp Narache. "Well good riddance to you and your human! Come, Kazhan."

The wolf growled and looked from the elder Tauren to the back of the younger. His golden eyes then fixed upon a corner of the babe's bloodstained blanket that flapped free and he shook himself, seeming to grow a bit taller and livelier. White fur that had been dull gleamed anew and he let loose a short bark before taking off after Caren, leaving Nomri alone in her bitterness.

Caren looked up from the babe in surprise as Kazhan ran up beside her, further shocked as she realized the old wolf looked…he looked as though he had stepped out of the past from when her father had still been alive.

"Az…what…"

The wolf barked sharply and stared at the babe in her arms, who wriggled in response and babbled in the manner all babies do. She frowned and crouched down at the edge of the lake, allowing wolf and babe to look at each other. Gold eyes stared into blue and Kazhan licked the babe's cheek, causing a cheerful giggle in response. Caren smiled at the interaction and reached out to touch the wolf's head, murmuring, "Found a new master have we, Az?"

Kazhan inclined his head and nudged the babe's cheek with his nose, making a grumbling noise when a tiny hand smacked at it. She laughed and rose, continuing her path along the edge of the lake, looking down at the wriggling babe in her arms as she went.

"Now you need a name," she murmured. She then frowned and realized she didn't even know what gender the babe was and made to check. "A name fit for a little man to be."

Kazhan growled in agreement and Caren frowned thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin. Then she smiled and looked down at the babe, who blinked back at her in curiosity.

"Taemmur," she murmured. "That's what I'll call you."

The newly named babe giggled happily and Kazhan loosed a short bark as the small group continued on their way.


	3. Growth of a Child

"Taem! Taem, wake up!"

The dark-haired human youth grumbled something and rolled over, causing the Orc female standing over him to roll her eyes. She then lifted a booted foot and kicked him off the other side of his bed, snarling, "Now, boy!"

Taemmur scrambled upright out of the tangle of his blankets and yelped at the sight of the female. He clutched the blankets about his waist, being unfortunate enough to not have been sleeping in anything, and spat out a curse in Taur-ahe before snarling, "Blast it, Sai, can't you wake me up in a normal fashion?"

The Orc smirked, blue eyes gleaming with humor, and replied, "And where would be the fun in that?" She then flicked her eyes around the small hut he'd been given to stay in during what times he was in Orgrimmar and added, "Get some clothes on. The Warchief wants to see you."

Taemmur blinked then quickly began scrambling around, gathering up bits of clothing that was tossed in various places around the small hut. He then looked at her and growled, "Do you mind?"

"Feh, like I'd want to see naked human bits." She stepped outside of the hut and he heard a low growl greet her, which meant her wolf companion was waiting outside. Shrugging, he dumped the gathered clothes on the bed and quickly dressed, as well as equipping the only weapon he'd ever been allowed in a major city of the Horde – a dagger. The state of the blade had improved over the years but he was always put off by having to bear with using it. He was skilled with the longsword, bastard sword, axe, and polearm at just seventeen years and just because he was _human_ they made him carry a _rogue's weapon._

He would have been insulted if Thrall and his mother hadn't agreed with the injustice of it years ago.

Sighing, Taemmur stepped out of the hut and looked down at the Orc leaning casually against the side of the hut, a sheathed zweihander casually propped up beside her and a huge black wolf sitting by her feet.

"How goes the hunting, Sai?" he asked. Then he nodded at the wolf, adding, "And hello, Korin."

The wolf, Korinaldrin, smiled at him in the way canines do and his master scoffed as she picked up her weapon, slinging it over one shoulder. "It doesn't go very well and you know it," she snarled at him. "Alliance have been popping up everywhere these days and driving all of us insane."

Taemmur frowned at that and said softly, "Is that why the Warchief wants to see me, Chanasai? Am I to be sent out to do my job now?"

Chanasai bit her lip, an expression that looked strange on Orc and Troll faces because of the tusks, and replied, "Sorry, Taem, I really don't know. Oh, your mother sends her well wishes. I ran across her and that Orc of hers when they were coming out of Desolace into the Charred Vale."

"Glad to know she's okay," he muttered, scuffing the heel of his right boot in the dirt. It had been nearly three years since he'd seen the only mother he'd ever known and he was starting to get worried that he'd done something wrong.

The Orc next to him touched his shoulder and said softly, "She's been busy, just like the rest of us, Taem. I'm certain she wants to see you as badly as you want to see her."

"Yeah…"

Chanasai frowned at him then said, "Well, let's go. Call that wolf of yours too 'cause I know he'll go insane if he finds you missing."

Taemmur snorted then whistled sharply, attracting the attention of the white wolf that was sniffing at the bottom of the Kodo Leatherworker's sign across the way. Ears pricked, Kazhan looked up at his master then ran towards them with a short bark. Korinaldrin barked back at him and wagged his tail cheerfully – the younger wolf was always happy to see the elder one.

As the white wolf bounded up beside him and received a welcoming pat, Chanasai said, "C'mon, Taem. Shouldn't keep the Warchief waiting."

Nodding, he followed her, one hand resting on the hilt of his dagger and the other trailing down at the side, the fingertips brushing against the top of Kazhan's head every other moment or so. Orc faces peered out from the other buildings in the Drag as they walked and a few even waved at him – most of the Horde was accepting of him though there were still a few that wanted to see him dead or back with his own kind. He waved back and paused to exchang a few words with one old Orc woman who he had helped around Orgrimmar since a Dwarf had killed her son five years before.

Then they were in the Valley of Wisdom, Chanasai nodding at a passing Troll female who returned the gesture. He looked first up at the entrance to Grommash Hold then flicked his eyes up to the towering sight of the armor of the demon Mannoroth, which was the most menacing thing he'd ever seen in his short years. Turning his eyes from the armor, he followed the hunter up into the Hold, grunting greetings to the guards and shamans inside that he knew.

At the entrance to the chamber where Thrall's throne and he himself was, the pair paused; wolf's skittering to a halt behind them and nipping playfully at each other. There Thrall stood speaking with a blue-skinned Troll and they stood to wait until he was finished and acknowledged them.

Blue eyes noticed them and Thrall turned, menacing looking in his black armor with the Doomhammer at his side, to regard them in his doorway. Even here, with his guards around him and all of Orgrimmar between him and an assault, he remained armed. Which was something he'd told Taemmur long ago to remain unless it was absolutely necessary to put down his arms.

"_Throm-Ka_, Warchief," said Chanasai sharply, holding herself up to her full height and thumping her closed fist above her heart in a salute. "I brought the boy as you asked."

"_Throm-Ka_, Scout," replied Thrall warmly. He then looked at Taemmur, who bowed and murmured, "_Throm-Ka,_ Warchief."

The Troll looked surprised at his words and the youth sighed, figuring him for one of the Horde that had heard of him but had dismissed a human living in Orgrimmar as a tall tale. He then shook his head, white Mohawk waving slightly, and bowed towards Thrall with a few words in his native tongue and made to leave. Taemmur stepped out of his way then blinked into a war-painted face as the Troll grabbed his arm tightly.

"So you da human, eh?" he said, dark eyes burning holes into the youth's gray. "Doan look like much, mon. Like a good wind blow you over an' snap you."

There was a sound of shifting leather from one side and a low growl from the other, bringing eyes towards the sight of an angry Chanasai, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword, and a growling Kazhan with his hackles raised.

"'Ey, I jus' be looking at him," said the Troll, releasing Taemmur's arm and taking a step back. "Violence not be needed, mon."

"I hope not," growled Chanasai, dropping her arm. She then looked at Thrall, who was watching the interaction calmly, saying, "Forgive me, Warchief. I nearly drew…"

Thrall waved a hand and looked at the Troll, saying, "My thanks for bringing the report, Jothan. And to you as well, Scout Chanasai, for bringing the boy." He then nodded at Taemmur, adding, "Come, boy…we have much to discuss."

Taemmur nodded and looked at Chanasai over his shoulder, who smiled at him, before he followed Thrall into the bowels of Grommash Hold where the Warchief's room and a small room for the guards to sleep in between shift changes if they wished were. He also was aware of the other rooms in the Hold hallways, where he had been only once before. Kazhan padded along behind him, sniffing at the floor and bumping his shoulder against the youth's knee every few moments. They walked all the way down and actually into the Warchief's room, which the youth had only seen once before. He'd been seven at the time and it was his first time in Orgrimmar with his mother – he'd managed to get himself lost from her and ended up in the Hold, somehow sneaking his way past the guards. That was the first time he'd met Thrall, when he'd sat down on the ground outside the Warchief's door to lean against it and ended up falling backwards when it opened, leaving him staring far above him into surprised blue eyes.

"I trust you have been well," said Thrall as he unhooked the Doomhammer from his belt and set it down on top of one of the three crudely built bookshelves. "No one bothering you of late?"

"No, Warchief," replied Taemmur, glancing around the room. There were endless amounts of books on history, philosophy, and other subjects that showed Thrall's intellect. A few Orcish written texts had been added to the human one's he couldn't remember seeing a decade before. He smiled with the corner of his mouth as he added, "I'd say they've gotten used to me in the years I've been here."

The Orc nodded and gestured at the sole chair in the room, which the youth immediately went and sat on. He watched as Thrall sifted through some papers on a desk and drew out a long scroll that hinted itself to being a map. Then he walked over and spread the map on the floor, kneeling beside it and placing a few loose Troll-made arrowheads he'd taken off the desk at the corners.

A detailed map of the Eastern Kingdom lay on the floor between them and Thrall asked, in the Common tongue, "You know of our allies here, correct?"

Taemmur nodded at that despite the fact that they both knew he did. He bent over and waved at the area above the Plaguelands, speaking in Common as well.

"Yes," he replied. "The Blood Elves from up here. And the Forsaken."

Thrall nodded and said, "Good. A few of the Blood Elf scout's found a very worrying note on a Gnome corpse…there is a plot, apparently, to make an attempt to reclaim Tirisfal Glades, Silverpine, the Undercity and completely destroy the Forsaken in one blow. Though why they did not simply attempt it four years ago when the city was undefended is an unknown. Yet there is another too, one less spoken of in this report." He fixed the youth with a hard gaze as he finished, "They are threatening to raise an army to come after Orgrimmar."

"But…that's_madness!_"

"I do agree. And this is where we have need of you."

Taemmur went still at that and breathed, "I…I'm being sent out? But…"

"You are young, yes," said Thrall, rising to his feet. He smiled and reached out to place a large hand on the youth's shoulder. "But brave and a fine member of the Horde. Plus you are the only one that can find out just what is behind this report – our other spies don't have the face to hide amongst the Alliance."

"Yes, but…" The youth frowned and looked worriedly up into the Orc's face. "What do I do when I must fight against someone in the Horde?"

Thrall shook his head and replied, "You must fight."

"Even its someone I know?"

"Even then."

Taemmur swallowed hard, the full extent of the job he'd been expected to do his entire life suddenly looming in front of him. Surviving amongst the Alliance would be hard but he could manage that. But if he was suddenly faced with the prospect if killing someone of the Horde, let alone someone he knew…he didn't know how he would react.

Worse still if it was his _mother_ he had to face.

A gauntleted hand gripped his shoulder tightly and Thrall said, "This is not something I wish to send you into but it must be done."

The youth nodded and asked in a choked voice, "When do I go?"

"Three days. Scout Chanasai is seeing to the group that will escort you to the Undercity; from there you'll be taken through to Hillsbrad, where they'll leave you around Southshore to be found by a patrol we know passes through there every few days."

Thrall then laid his other hand on top of Taemmur's head, saying, "_Aka'Mogash_."

The youth dropped his head and breathed, "Thank you, Warchief. I'll go now and prepare for leaving."

He rose as the Orc stepped back and moved towards the door, stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he blinked up at Thrall in confusion.

"Remember where you came from," he bid him. "And those that made you who you are."

Taemmur nodded and left, Kazhan trailing along behind him as they their made their way back up into the main part of the Hold. They went past the guards without a word and headed straight back towards the small hut that was the youth's for three more days. When they arrived, he went to the chest at the end of his bed – carved from a tree of Mulgore by someone his mother knew – and opened it. Kazhan sat back on his haunches as his master reached into the chest and drew out a ragged old bear, sewed together from the furry hides of wolves and stuffed with sheep's wool and grasses. His mother had stitched it together herself and he kept it as a reminder of her.

The youth sat on the dusty floor of the hut next to the chest, wrapping one arm loosely around the beasts back. Whining softly, the wolf nudged his master's shoulder with his nose then rested his great head there, amber eyes shining worriedly.

"I'm fine, Kaz," said Taemmur, speaking in Taur-ahe – the first tongue he'd ever learned and was most comfortable with. He held up the bear in his other hand, looking at it and longing for the days when he had lived in Mulgore with his mother. Back then he hadn't had to worry about the day when he would be sent out to become a spy or watch his back because some member of the Horde might take the opportunity to slide their blade in it.

Kazhan whined again and he forced a smile onto his face. "I'm just sad, Kaz. I don't want to go do what they want me to…neither does Mother. But I have to. To be able to stand up to those that call me scum and say I'm not worth being a member of the Horde, that I should go back to where I belong…I have to do this because of that."

"I belong _here_. And I'll earn my place in the Horde."

* * *

_Throm-Ka:_ Well met (Orcish)

_Aka'Mogash:_ A blessing on you and yours (Orcish)


	4. To Become a Traveler

Taemmur woke to the sound of rain.

He opened his eyes and stared out past the heavy Thunder Lizard hide that made up his door at the downfall. Kazhan shifted at the end of his bed, paws scratching lightly at the sheets as though he was chasing the killers of his former master in his dreams. Shifting up onto an elbow, he reached down and patted the wolf's head, making him snuffle and fall into a deeper sleep in response.

Falling back onto his bed, he frowned out at the storm and brooded on the events that would begin occurring on this now dreary day. Chanasai would be arriving to gather him in a few hours and they would be off on a zeppelin to the Eastern Kingdoms.

Just as he was about to drift back to sleep he heard the sound of shuffling feet outside and sat up, blinking at the low sound of Gutterspeak being spoken. He knew only a few words in the tongue the Forsaken had chosen to speak as their own and the one he picked up mostly was a curse his mother would have slapped him for daring to say when he was younger. Propping himself up on one elbow again, he blinked at the hide covering the door as it gave a flap then fell back to where it was.

A bony hand then pushed the hide back entirely and the emaciated, robed figure of Resden entered his small hut, dark hair plastered to his skull by the rain and leaning heavily on his staff. He snarled some more in Gutterspeak as he let the hide fall back to where it had been then looked at Taemmur, the dark holes that were his eyes seeming to smile.

"Sorry for barging in, lad," he said in his raspy voice. "Heard about you heading out in a few hours and felt the need to come say goodbye."

"Yeah," said the youth, sitting up to regard the sopping Forsaken mage. "You want something to dry off with?"

Resden waved a rotting hand and shook his head, sinking down into the makeshift chair that stood next to the door.

"No, I'm fine. And I doubt you want pieces of me clinging to your things."

Taemmur nodded then asked, "So…how've you been?" It was his practice to ask this of the mage ever since four years ago when he had lost his mind like nearly every other Forsaken.

"As well as I can be," replied the mage with a smile that was lopsided because of his rotting jaw. "What about you, lad? You're heading straight into enemy territory…and I know how uneasy that can make you feel."

It was a startling thing to realize he'd forgotten there was someone that knew what his situation was like. The mage sitting before him had been downed by the plague that had overtaken Lordaeron and had been one of the Scourge for at least a year. Then he had awoken to find himself in a graveyard to realize he was dead and the only people that would take him were those he'd feared and fought against as a mage of Dalaran. Few others amongst the Horde accepted their Forsaken allies well but Taemmur had been taught by his mother to be friendly to anyone within the Horde.

Also, the Forsaken were technically his people as most were human once. Most were bitter however and Resden was the only one he'd ever met several times that held very little bitterness – unless he counted Saran but the rogue was no longer bitter nor technically Forsaken. The mage could be sarcastic as a being could be but he wasn't bitter about his situation.

"Any suggestions?" he asked, tilting his head slightly at the mage.

Resden frowned and replied, "Well, I don't really know. You're heading into a much different situation that I did… I mean, I couldn't have gone back to Dalaran if I wanted to. Humanity doesn't tend to be fond of things that continue living despite the fact that they're very much dead."

Taemmur thought of his aunt then, who thought the same thing. That way of thinking had caused raucous arguments between her and his mother as well as him many a time.

"But," added the mage, "you at least know you have a place to come back to." He smiled and finished, "You're a member of the Horde, lad. Don't forget that."

"I don't intend to. Leaving isn't something I particularly want to do."

Resden smiled at that, leaning forward to place a bony hand on the youth's shoulder.

"Leaving what we know isn't something any of us want to do, lad. Yet we're either forced to do so or choose to do so. From what I hear this situation is both for you."

"Yeah. I want to serve the Horde but…I really don't want to go amongst humans. 'Cause I know they aren't all like Kalya was." Taemmur ducked his head, shaking it before burying his fingers in his thick, dark hair. "I get yelled at because of what I am on the outside but no one really seems to understand what I am on the inside."

The bony hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked up into the dark spaces that were the mage's eyes. And Taemmur was grateful that he didn't go on about his mention of the human girl who had briefly been in Orgrimmar – even after four years, her loss still hurt all that had known her. Instead rotting skin twisted into a smile and Resden rasped, "I know. Once I went back, tried to see those that I knew one last time – those that survived the Plague. They chased me all the way back to Silverpine with pitchforks and torches, screaming at me all the things they call us."

He shook his head, dark hair flapping wetly against his pallid flesh and continued, "Some beings can only see what is on the outside and not within. Those people could not see that despite my appearance I am still the same within. And those here cannot see that beneath all this…" He paused and lifted his hand from Taemmur's shoulder, waving it about at the youth's face and shoulders. "…that you are as noble as your mother and her kind."

The youth smiled gratefully at that, breathing, "Thanks, Resden. I'm glad there's someone that doesn't hate me."

"Heh, children need kind words sometimes," said the mage airily, waving his hand. He then turned and tweaked back the Thunder Lizard hide, peering out at the downpour outside. "Most particularly on gloomy days like these."

"Doubly gloomy," noted Taemmur.

"Aye."

The two of them sat there for a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, just sitting in companionable silence listening to the rain and the sound of Kazhan's breathing. It was a way they'd done things for as long as he'd known the mage, the pair of them just able to sit and enjoy each other's company, usually each settled back with a book on some rooftop in Orgrimmar or in the grass of a path in Thunder Bluff so they could watch traffic when the book needed a break.

"So," said the mage then, summoning a spark of flame and using it to light the single brazier Taemmur was allowed in his hut. "Are your things packed, lad?"

The youth nodded towards the other side of the room, where a heavy pack of Dwarf make lay. Thrall had given him the pack himself, claiming that it would get better use with Taemmur than gathering dust in his room. He had packed his things into it the night before, leaving out only the clothes he would change into and his dagger.

"I see. It's somewhat surprising to me to see a young man prepared the night before an event. I dare say I saw none too few fellow apprentice's in my time lacking such a trait."

"My mother always told me it was best to be prepared," said Taemmur softly. He then looked at the mage and asked, "Resden…do you…will she…" Swallowing hard, he lost his voice then found it again. "Will she be there to see me off? Do you know?"

The Forsaken mage grimaced at the question and shook his head, replying, "I wish I could tell you 'yes,' lad, but I don't know. Last I heard, they were out in Badlands with a warrior by the name of Mogromi."

"I see. Guess that's that then."

Resden frowned and leaned forward, his pallid features twisted into a grimace.

"Lad, I…"

"Go away," hissed the young man, burying his head in his hands again. "Please…please, just go away…"

The mage nodded and rose slowly to his feet, his limbs creaking slightly. He moved to the door and tweaked the Thunder Lizard hide aside, looking back at the youth as he did so.

"We're here for you, lad," he said softly. "All of us. Don't forget that."

Then he was out the door and back into the rain, leaving Taemmur alone in the hut that was about to cease to be his in a matter of hours. The youth sat there for a long moment, head in his hands, then made a low keening noise in the back of his throat.

"What do I do?" he breathed out, asking the question to the sleeping wolf and the empty room.

"What do I do whilst my world falls out from under my feet?"

* * *

Hours later, Taemmur walked behind Chanasai out of Orgrimmar, his pack over one shoulder and Kazhan by his side. Muttering voices followed them through the city and he ignored them, keeping his head low and his eyes on the ground. Because of this he nearly ran into the female Orc's back as she came to an abrupt stop.

He lifted his head and found a large group waiting for them in the entranceway to the city. One was Resden, who had dried since he'd last seen the mage and was leaning on his staff smiling at the youth. Two others were Blood Elf's, a male and female similar enough in looks to give him the hint that they were siblings. She had a two-handed sword slung across her back with a cat lounging at her feet whilst the other had a shorter blade at one hip with a wand accompanying a company of pouches on the other. Her glowing green fixed on him for a moment and he thought he saw her lip curl in distaste. Then her brother nudged her with an elbow and smiled at the youth, his eyes simply green with little to no glow. Which was strange…all the Blood Elves had brightly glowing eyes from what he had heard of them, what with their consumption of fel magic.

Was he different? And why did he look vaguely familiar?

Two others joined the group then from the darkness of the entrance then and he recognized the white hair of the Orc, immediately forgetting the riddle of the male elf.

"Kaz!"

"Well, if its not the whelp!" exclaimed the Orc. He grinned at the youth then looked over his shoulder. "Caren, your lad would like to see you, no doubt. S'been a while since we've been city-side after all."

Taemmur blinked then grinned broadly as the tall, noble figure of Carentareta, the only mother he had ever known, stepped up behind the Orc. Her hazel eyes were bright as she looked at him and then took a step forward, reaching out to place her hand on his head. He beamed at her from underneath it and wanted dearly to hug her right in front of everyone watching them. Kazhan growled a greeting to her as well and she smiled at him warmly.

"You've grown," she said softly and the three years of not seeing her no longer seemed to matter.

"I know," he replied. Chanasai coughed then and he frowned at her, causing her to shrug apologetically.

"Sorry, Taem, but we've got to move quick here. We pulled a zeppelin out of work to transport our little group alone and the goblins aren't very happy about it."

Taemmur scowled but nodded and the small group started to move, continuing on their path out of Orgrimmar and towards the zeppelin tower. As they settled onto their hijacked ride, he went below and finally there he flung his arms about his mother. Hers came about him a moment later and he sighed, content for the first time in a long while. He breathed in the scent of her, still all leather and the scent of Mulgore despite her not being in her home for years now, and said, "I missed you so much."

"I've missed you too," she said, pulling away from him. He looked up at her as she pulled back, surprised to find that his head came up to her shoulders now when he'd barely reached her elbows when she'd left him in Orgrimmar.

He'd been told he'd had quite the growth spurt over the year but he hadn't truly realized how much!

Her hands cupped his face and he met her hazel eyes as she studied him. Then she hugged him again before saying, "I want you to know, _An'she_, that I do not want this to happen."

"I know," breathed Taemmur, his throat tightening at her personal name for him. She had called him 'The Sun' in her native tongue for as long as he could remember and when he had asked why once she replied that it was because he was her sun and lit up everything within her life. "And I know that you can't stop it."

Tears filled his mother's eyes and she shook her head sadly.

"I wish I could."

"We both know I cannot avoid this."

"I know," she said. Then she stomped one of her hooves, a sudden savage look on her noble face that reminded him of her feral side. "It would have been kinder had I not been such a fool and wanted the blessing of the Chieftain. I should have ran with you and hidden – then we would not have to go through this."

Taemmur frowned and grabbed at her hands, his still seeming so small within hers despite his growth spurt. "The past is the past, Mother," he said softly. "We can't change it. And I would rather do this for the Horde than change the past and end up being nothing more than a human following orders."

His mother nodded then looked up as the male elf suddenly came down the stairs into the depths of the zeppelin. Cool green eyes regarded them curiously for a moment then he bowed and said, "Forgive my intrusion, Caren. But it is probably wise to tell him exactly what we are going to be doing."

"We?" repeated the youth. He looked in confusion at his mother then back at the elf. "What's this about?"

She sighed and replied, "_An'she_, this is Hresden Sylindaal, an old friend. He will be accompanying you as he is the only one who can."

Now Taemmur was really confused.

"What? But…he's a Blood Elf…"

"A High Elf," corrected Hresden with a smile. "My sister has fallen prey to the magic lust where I have not."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"My sister is my life, Taemmur. More of a mother to me than anything as she raised me – and I follow her where she goes." His eyebrows twitched and the elf added, "Though now it seems I'll be following you. Which won't be that much of a change really from the last time I accompanied someone."

Taemmur frowned and asked, "Won't people recognize you?"

"No more than they will recognize you. I've lived in seclusion in Theramore for most of my years, bogged down by my studies. Few of those that would know me from there ever stir from their holes and the news of my leaving with my sister isn't something that would be spread around." He laughed merrily and finished, "A High Elf willingly going to the Horde without having succumbed to our addiction is an embarrassment to them. One who talks about it freely is also somewhat of an embarrassment but I can not be bothered to care."

The youth just stared at the elf for a moment and looked at his mother, who shrugged and smiled at him. Then he reached out a hand and said, "Well then…I guess we're partners."

"So we are," said Hresden, sliding his hand past the youth's to grip his wrist – a warrior's clasp that was out of place being received from a mage. At Taemmur's confusion, he chuckled and explained, "I do have some skill with more than just magic. If we need a sword, I can happily supply it."

"And many other skills," said Caren with a smile. She then shifted and added, "We should all probably catch what sleep we can. From what I can tell, Chana is planning to set a hard pace once we arrive."

"I was about to suggest the same," said the mage. He then bowed and added, "I take my leave then and will try to keep others from coming down here to bother you. Family is important, after all."

With that he left and Taemmur stared after him before saying, "He is strange."

Caren chuckled and clasped her human son's shoulder warmly.

"Strange he may be but he's a good companion and friend. He will be excellent company for you, I think."

"Yeah," said the youth softly. He then sighed and leaned wearily against his mother, muttering, "This is unfair."

"I know," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him.

Taemmur sighed heavily and closed his eyes, simply breathing in his mother's familiar scent and relishing in being in her presence again. Because he had the feeling that he wasn't going to be seeing her for a long time after he was escorted to Southshore.

And if he did…it would be at the end of a sword.

* * *

_An'she:_ The Sun (Taur-ahe) 


	5. Change is a Terrible Thing

"It's a three day hard ride to Southshore from here," said Chanasai as she patted her riding wolf's thick mane and looked at the group gathered in the ruins above the Undercity. "We lost a day's travel coming here on the zeppelin and that patrol arrives in two."

"Which means we have to ride all day and get to sleep once," grumbled Kazmo as he jerked the head of his black raptor up as it snapped at a rat. Then he grinned at Caren and said, "Not anything special for us of late, is it?"

Caren chuckled at that. "Yes, but we're usually running away from the Alliance, not towards them."

"True," amended the Orc with a shrug.

Chanasai grumbled something then swung up onto her wolf's back, bellowing, "MOUNT UP!"

Taemmur arched an eyebrow and patted Kazhan's head one last time before swinging up onto his wolf's back, a hood pulled over his head to hide his features. Then he leaned towards his mother and said, "She's being a bit brusque today, isn't she?"

"She is probably worried about failing in this," replied Caren softly. "After all, she is an Orc and looks up to the Warchief far more than the rest of us. She wants to do good in his eyes and be recognized."

"True," he said, shrugging. Then he glanced behind him at a snort and saw Resden mounted on the skeletal horses the Forsaken preferred. And he was surprised to see Hresden on one as well, with his sister looking at it with disdain from the back of her hawkstrider.

Chanasai spurred her wolf forward then and Kazmo bounded up right behind her, his raptor screeching as it was denied another rat. Hresden's sister – whose name he still hadn't learned – blurred past him with her cat running behind her. Then his mother bumped her wolf forward and he followed her, Kazhan bounding along after him with Resden and Hresden taking up their rear. It was a strange place for the two mages to be but as Chanasai had explained, they could freeze anything chasing them and allow them to continue on their way.

Sighing, Taemmur shifted to a comfortable spot in his wolf's saddle and tilted his head back to look at the sky above the plagued trees of Tirisfal.

It would be the last time for a long while that he would be able to pass here in peace.

* * *

"Say goodbye's quickly," hissed Chanasai as Taemmur and Hresden swung off their mounts to the ground. "That patrol will be here soon and things won't fare well if we're all here."

"We know," said the mage, nodding his head towards her. Then he stepped towards his sister, who just stared down at him from atop her mount, and bowed. After a moment of looking at him, she leaned over and hugged him as best she could.

As Hresden later explained to Taemmur…if she had come off her mount, she would never have been able to leave him behind.

Caren had no such qualms and was off of her wolf before her son was quite on the ground. She caught him up in a hug and held him tight for a long moment before letting go.

Brushing back his hair, she breathed, "You be safe, _An'she_."

"I will, Mother," he murmured, feeling tears well in his eyes. Then he caught the sound of hooves in the distance at the same time Chanasai did and then Kazmo reappeared from his short scouting run, his raptor snapping at the air and bouncing restlessly.

"Sorry, Care, but you have to cut the goodbye short," he said, giving her an apologetic look. She smiled at him then bowed her head, the tips of her horns hovering over Taemmur's eyebrows. And in a low, choked voice, she invoked a prayer to the Earth Mother to keep him safe and bring him back to her unharmed.

Then she took a step back, a grimace on her face, before spinning away entirely. Taemmur choked down tears as she flung herself onto her wolf's back and rode off before she could insist on stopping this madness. Kaz saluted him briefly then rushed after her, with Hresden's sister at his back. Chanasai lingered for a moment as Tammur bid his goodbyes to Kazhan, urging him to follow behind her as it wasn't likely to be safe for him amongst the Alliance. At the last Resden, made a complicated symbol in the air with his bony fingers and breathed, "Luck be with you both!" before he followed them, clutching at the reins of Hresden's mount in his free hand.

Just as the two undead horses disappeared, the patrol made their appearance upon the rode and Hresden straightened, preparing for his role. Stepping forward, he cried out, "Hail!"

The patrol stopped immediately and its leader glowered at the elf before snarling, "Are you mad, Blood Elf?!"

"Blood Elf?" sneered Hresden, putting contempt into his voice. "How dare you compare me to those that have fallen?"

The leader looked properly mollified at that and bowed briefly.

"My apologies."

"I should think so!" exclaimed the mage. "And I would dare say I'd like your apologies for not being here sooner! My companion and I were nearly killed just a moment ago!"

Taemmur nodded frantically, trying not to look too out of place with his rough homespun clothes and battered leather armor. He had at least had a sword now, which was a far cry of an improvement over his previous weapon, and it was one of human make as well. They hadn't wanted to take the chance of him going into Alliance territory with a Horde made weapon.

"You were attacked?" said the leader, his eyes darting around. He then made a brief hand signal at his men and one spread out to each side, looking for their 'attackers'. They only thing that they would find would be the prints of the mounts riding away and the hoof prints of a Tauren which were lost in a scuffle of boots. Taemmur had made sure to stomp over the spot where they had stood to make it look like something had occurred.

"Yes!" exclaimed Hresden, flailing his arms. "Were there not five of them, we would have held them off well enough. As is…it was a blessing for you to be passing by…" The mage made a vague motion with his hand, obviously waiting for the man's name.

"Knight Walrick," replied the man as his two scouts came back. "My company and I would be happy to escort you both into Southshore. Perhaps we'll even run across the group that attacked you on our way."

_By the Earth Mother, I hope not_, thought Taemmur as he nodded and said, "That would be greatly appreciated, sir Knight."

Hresden nodded and said, "I, Hresden Sylindaal, and my companion here, Taemmur Wraithkin, thank you kindly for your help, Knight Walrick."

"Its nothing," said the man, waving absently. He then made another hand gesture at his men and they spread out around their leader and the pair as the small band continued along the road.

Taemmur bowed his head as they walked, wishing desperately that he were not here but back home in Mulgore. As Hresden's hand fell on his shoulder, he looked up at the mage, who smiled reassuringly at him.

Slowly he returned the smile and thanked the Earth Mother that, if he could not avoid this fate, he was at least venturing into enemy territory with an ally at his side.


	6. This Feeling We Feel

"I feel like I'm betraying everyone."

Hresden looked up from his writing to look at the boy, his faintly glowing eyes regarding him gently. They had been in Southshore for almost two months now and with two large-scale attacks on the town, he had been pulled into the Southshore guards since they were low on men. And now with reinforcements coming to the town, he and others were being ordered to come to Stormwind for training.

Taemmur stood in the middle of the room they shared in the inn, with half of the heavy armor he'd been given on the floor and the rest still on. Underneath the chain mail that he wore under the armor, his chest heaved as he stared at his reflection in a small mirror.

Slowly Hresden rose and walked over to him, gently touching his arm to bring the youth's attention towards him. Wide gray eyes stared at him in fear and he softly intoned, "You are betraying no one, Taemmur. This is your duty to do and one only you can do."

"I know." The boy ducked his head, the two braids he had his hair bound into caressing each side of his face, and closed his eyes. "But it still feels like I'm betraying everything I know and love."

"I know, lad."

"Can you?" asked Taemmur, opening one eye to glare at him. "Can you really, Hresden?"

The High Elf frowned and said, "Four years ago, I followed my friend to try and find what was causing the Forsaken to go mad. What we found was an old friend of mine, turned to the Scourge when he was abandoned in Quel'thalas as it was overrun. And I killed him because of what he was doing to the world and my friends. So do not tell me that I do not know betrayal!"

Green eyes flared for a moment with eldritch power and the hand on the youth's shoulder suddenly gripped it tightly. Hresden groaned then and Taemmur spun towards him, grasping the mage's shoulders as he almost collapsed.

"Hresden!"

"I'm fine," gasped the elf. Shaking, he continued, "This happens sometimes."

"What? What happens?"

"I do not consume arcane energies like my brethren; instead I spend certain hours meditating every few days to control it. But…there are times like this when…" The mage was cut off by another burst of pain and he would have collapsed if Taemmur hadn't caught him about the waist. Hresden gasped for air for a moment, his hands clutching at the youth's silver armor, then he finally finished, "Times like this when all control fails and I experience this."

"How often does this happen?" breathed Taemmur, wondering how he had lasted so long with this pain. If it was him going through this…he didn't think he would have lasted so long.

"Every seven years or so," replied the mage as the youth helped him over to one of the two beds in the room. As he lay back on the bed, the elf sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "But it always strikes without warning."

Another wave of pain struck the High Elf and Taemmur frowned as the lean face of the man of the slowly becoming his friend twisted into a grimace.

"Is…is there anything I can do?"

Hresden shook his head slightly and gasped out, "No. Just…just let it pass."

The youth stared helplessly at him for a moment then nodded, moving to continue the task of removing his armor. As he was setting it aside, he heard the elf groan again in pain and closed his eyes. Unable to take the sounds anymore, he fled outside and sought the comfort of the sounds of the town.

Sinking down onto the fence that half-surrounded the small graveyard, he sighed. Hresden was hurting…and he still couldn't place where he remembered the mage from! But he spoke like he'd been involved with that matter four years ago with Saran and Kalya…even gone with them to the end. So why didn't he remember that?

At hearing the thunder of hoof beats in the distance suddenly, he came to his feet and peered through the trees towards the road. As the mounts and their riders came into view, his heart fell with a sudden thump.

The reinforcements and their escort to Stormwind had arrived.

* * *

"Are you certain you're alright to ride?" asked Taemmur as he worked at fastening the last buckles on his armor.

Hresden nodded and replied, "I am well enough to ride." He then crossed the room and snapped closed the last buckle that had been just out of the youth's reach.

"Thanks."

The mage nodded and patted an armored shoulder, saying, "I'm fine, there's no need to worry. I've been dealing with this for fifty years now and I dare say I'll be doing in for a few more."

Taemmur blinked and gasped, "_Fifty_ years?"

"Fifty-four if you want me to be honest. And elf," pointed out Hresden, gesturing at himself. He then smirked and walked back over to packing his few things. The youth blinked after him then frowned and walked over to the window, looking out over Southshore. In the middle of town the guards were switching out properly and all that was needed for them to be prepared to leave was for the men to get their things packed.

They had three hours before the group from Stormwind was mounting up and heading back there. And thankfully Hresden had been pulled into going as well since High Elf mages were rare. Too many had given in to their addiction according to one of the guards so it was always rare to find one that hadn't. It helped that his specialty was fire and all of the men in Southshore had respected him when he'd driven back three attackers all on his own.

They didn't realize that he'd set the ground on fire and not them but Taemmur wasn't about to tell them that.

"I think I'll actually miss this place," mused the youth as he leaned on the window. "Its not big, the people here are farmers and…it makes me think of home."

There was a shuffling sound behind him then Hresden came to stand next to him, looking down at the hustle and bustle below with a smile. He nodded then said, "Yes, it does remind me of the places amongst the Horde. Small and pleasant with kind people…the only thing different is who they are."

"Yeah." Taemmur frowned at the window for a moment then looked at the elf. "They would hate me if they knew where I came from."

"People hate what they do not understand. It's the nature of them."

"You don't."

"I was raised different," said Hresden with a smile. He then frowned and added, "It will be strange being amongst so many humans again."

The youth next to him stared down at the ground outside, watching at the men were finally gotten into order and those leaving went off to prepare. His armored hands gripped on the windowsill then and he hissed out, "You'll help me, won't you?"

A hand cuffed his shoulder lightly and he turned around to blink at the elf, who shook his head and smiled. Then he held out his hand and Taemmur stared before grinning and gripping it in a warrior's clasp.

"That's what I'm here for, lad," said the mage warmly. "Now smarten up and gather up your gear. We're really heading into enemy territory now."


	7. Betrayals Within Betrayals

"Knight Wrathkin!"

A man with his dark hair bound into two braids trailing over his shoulder turned at the shout, frowning at the boy that ran up to him. "What is it, Tomas?" he asked softly.

"Commander Walrick's summoned you to the Stockades, sir," replied Tomas after he'd gotten his breath back. "I dunno about what but…but…"

"But what?"

"Well…there's a rumor they've captured a Tauren, sir!"

Tomas didn't notice the small intake of breath and skittered off as the knight said, "Thank you, Tomas. You head home now as you've probably worried your mother sick again with your running about."

"Okay. G'bye!"

The knight nodded absently and looked around him at the buildings of the trade district before beginning the walk towards the Stockades. His heavily armored boots – the only part of his armor he was still wearing since going off duty not long before – clanked loudly against the stones of the street as he walked, alerting people to his coming. A good few recognized him and respectively bowed out of the way for he had been a member of the Stormwind guard for six years now and helped hold back two Horde assaults. He had even been the one to warn them about the first one.

He was a hero in the eyes of most of the children in the city. But Taemmur Wraithkin – formerly Bloodwolf – felt nothing so much like a hero.

Because despite all he had helped this city, he hadn't done nearly what he had been supposed to. All he had found out in these six years were rumors of an army intending on going after the Undercity.

Frowning as he walked, he rubbed his thumb against a silver ring on his left hand, waiting until it warmed before he stopped. When he reached out of the bridges crossing the canal, he halted in his tracks and waited.

With a brush of robes against the cobbled streets the only warning, Hresden appeared out of seemingly nowhere and the two strode forward off the bridge in perfect step with each other. The High Elf mage frowned and said, "Something's happened."

Taemmur just nodded and replied, "I've been summoned to the Stockades for something. And Tomas…Hres, the boy told me that there was a rumor of them having a Tauren captured."

Green eyes widened at that and the mage breathed, "Why would they summon you for such a thing?"

"I don't know," replied the weary twenty-three year-old. He ran a hand back through his bangs before muttering under his breath, "Maybe they've found us out."

Hresden snorted at that and irritably flicked his robes. "If they had done that, Taem, our heads would be mounted on SI:7's walls. Its probably simply that man wanting you to prove yourself again – I assume it_was_ Walrick that summoned you?"

Taemmur nodded and the mage frowned before flicking his hand at the two guards standing outside the Stockades door. They looked at each other nervously – obviously having orders to not let anyone else in – but few people in Stormwind were able to disagree with Hresden. He was, after all, a High Elf mage of some power and one who wasn't hiding away in Theramore or the Hinterlands. And most of the guards had seen his temper tested when the mage had accompanied them to a breaking up of a marauders cave hideout.

The mage had found two children dead and a third abused beyond all healing since she was half-insane from being tortured. He had given her the gentle release she so needed then ordered the guards out in a voice that made not a one of them want to disobey, leaving him alone with the gathered marauders. They had only found four of the body parts of the thirty-score in the aftermath and the stench of fire still clung to the cave, keeping anything from entering it.

Hresden was most definitely not someone to deal with lightly.

Taemmur smirked as he followed the mage in then staggered to a stunned halt at the sight that greeted them in the middle of the room. The best of the Stormwind Guard seemed to be there, two dozen men and women all crammed into the room, and in the center…

In the center, forced to her knees was a female Tauren. Shattered links of mail armor still hung around her arms and clung to her chest, showing huge gaps where the plate breastplate that had likely been covering had been. Off to the side, a heavy helm and two short but vicious swords lay on the table where the Commander stood in silence. Her head swayed from side to side in obvious weariness but eventually her red eyes met Taemmur's as her war-painted face lifted.

Alisadegeta stared at her adopted nephew for a moment then bowed her head again as one of the knights holding her up smacked his gauntleted fist against her neck. It took all of Taemmur's will not to leap forward and take the man's hand for striking his family.

"Knight Wraithkin," rumbled Commander Walrick, tilting his salt-and-pepper head to the side. "I did not tell you to bring your pet mage."

"Pet?!" exploded Hresden, taking a furious step forward. One Guard stepped into his path and he stopped, smoldering in anger. "How dare you…"

"No!" exploded Walrick, spinning towards them. "How dare _you_, mage! We have received a morsel of rather dire news about you – from a new Guardsman who grew up in Theramore."

Taemmur stiffened and his horrified gaze flew from Hresden to Walrick and back. They were found out!

Hresden just sneered and spat, "And what could a meer _boy_ tell you about _me_, Commander?"

Walrick smirked and replied, "He could tell us that Hresden Sylindaal let Theramore more than twenty years ago alongside his elder sister Lymalis…who was exiled for becoming one of those wretched Blood Elves! And that they were spotted latter in Orgrimmar itself!"

_Earth Mother, we've been caught well and true_, thought Taemmur with a sinking heart. His gaze flicked all around the room, looking for any other way out beside the door at their backs. Any way that he could get himself, Hresden, and…

"And now," purred Walrick, "we've found this Tauren lurking around Goldshire with this missive…" He picked up a scroll from the table and tossed it at Hresden, who caught it with a swirl of magic before it touched his hand. Green eyes flicked sideways at the scroll then his fingers closed around it.

"No harmful magic on it," he murmured. "Surprising." Slowly he opened the scroll and read it to himself before tossing it back at the Commander's chest. "So…now what, Commander? Are you planning to kill all of us in one fell swoop? Because, I assure you, I will be a hard foe to take down."

The big man chuckled darkly and replied, "Oh no, mage. I was actually going to give you a chance to redeem yourself."

Hresden arched an eyebrow and Taemmur stepped forward before he could, growling, "And what sort of way is that?"

"Oh ho! So you are going to admit to being a part of this as well. I knew I had my doubts about the two of you from the beginning…"

"Taem, don't do this," hissed the mage. "You can…"

"We're caught," snapped Taemmur loudly, lifting his head high. He could see the looks of disgust on the faces of the men and women around him but he could care less. Human he might be on the outside…but his heart and soul was Tauren.

Walrick smirked and picked up one of the short swords from the table, using its blade to lift the lowered head of the Tauren. She groaned in response then her pain-filled red eyes met Taemmur's again. He stared back at his aunt Alisa coolly then moved his gaze up the blade to Walrick.

"Let me guess," he spat, "I kill her and you forget any of this happened."

"Exactly! I guess those brains you've shown over the years aren't just an illusion."

Taemmur growled then stepped forward, ignoring Hresden's sharp intake of breath and gasp of, "Taem, no!" He took the sword from Walrick's grasp and looked down into his aunt's red gaze.

"Do…it…Taem," Alisa managed to gasp in Taur-ahe through a mouth bruised and bloodlied, her voice raw. Taemmur's eyes narrowed as he wondered what tortures she'd been put through, what…

He slowly looked all around him at them, the humans, taking note of their accusing eyes and sneers. Those looks…he knew them well. He then knew from seeing them from members of the Horde who could not accept a human, even one raised by a Tauren.

Then he dropped to one knee in front of her and breathed in Taur-ahe, "I can not do this anymore, dear Aunt."

"Taem, no!" she gasped. "You…!"

He spun to his feet before she could finish and grabbed at Walrick's shoulder, shoving the blade of the sword through a space in his armor and into his heart. Teeth bared, he snarled, "For the Warchief, the Chieftain, and the Horde!" just before the life faded from the Commander's face. As he jerked the blade back out and let the body fall towards the floor, there was silence.

Then the Guard started to scream forward but were thrust backwards off their feet at a wave of Hresden's hand and a few harsh words. The mage then thrust out his right hand, a small clay square with a rune etched into it held between two fingers, and snarled, "Grab her, Taemmur!" He muttered something then and let the rune drop from his hand, where it fell then was caught in the air as it burst into flame. It swelled up into a huge swirl of fire as Taemmur lifted Alisa up so she was leaning on his shoulder then settled into the gentle glow of a portal, showing the heights of Thunder Bluff visible beyond it.

"Go!" snarled Hresden as he lashed out at a rising Guardsman with a fireball. He spun in place then and shouted in Thalassian, his arms flung at the guards on either side of the room and their feet froze in place.

Then Taemmur saw the one that had gotten his hands on a bow and was drawing the string…

"HRES!"

The mage spun around but far too late to do a thing – the arrow caught him in the shoulder and he dropped with a grunt of pain. Taemmur snarled and flung the bloodied sword he still held at the guard around the portal, catching him in the throat. As the body fell back in a spray of blood, he limped forward a step under his aunt's weight and grabbed a handful of the robe he knew Hresden abhorred, dragging the limp body towards him.

Another arrow flew past his ear and Hresden snarled, mumbling something and flicking his fingers. As fire roared up around them, Taemmur gripped the neck of the mage's robes and flung all three of them through the portal to the safety of Thunder Bluff just before it closed.

There was the surprised croak of Gutterspeak as they stumbled through, Taemmur just barely keeping all of them upright, then a cry of, "Human! Human in the Pools!"

"Wait!" he croaked in Taur-ahe. Portals had always made him sick since he could remember and he was swaying now perilously from the vertigo. "I'm Taemmur Bloodwolf! I need…I…need…"

He suddenly realized that Hresden and his aunt's weight were gone and started to fall. But bony hands caught him and then he heard Resden's rough voice from what seemed a very long way away.

"We have you, lad. Take it easy."

At that voice, so familiar and missed, Taemmur let the blackness that wanted to overrun him have it way and collapsed, trusting the Forsaken mage to catch him.


	8. Waking to a Half Forgotten Place

If you have not seen the notices as per this latest chapter on 2/2/08, you need to go back and reread chapters 1 thru 6. They have been changed since the completion of _Bones_ to more match with the events put forth in that story. You should also probably read _Bones_ if you haven't...its not required ( I tried not to make it so ) but it would help.

* * *

Taemmur woke, groggy, then he blinked, trying to reconnect what he was seeing and feeling with his recent memories.

He was in a bed…but it wasn't his bed.

There was a ceiling above him…but it wasn't of stone and wood.

And he could hear voices yelling in the early morning…Orcish voices.

Gasping, he jerked upright then was swept over by nausea again and started to fall sideways out of the bed. Two hands caught him, however, and someone tutted at him at they eased him back down.

"You are a foolish boy, you know that? Honestly, trying to jump up after going through a portal – you know how they affect you."

Taemmur blinked and peered in confusion at the face above him for a moment. Then he murmured, "Nec?"

"So you _do_insist on still calling me that." Taemmur shook his head slightly and the face above him came clearly into view, as human as his own. But it hadn't changed since the last time he had seen it a year before he had been told he had to leave Orgrimmar. "I was curious if you would still."

"Heh…Hres!" exclaimed Taemmur then, trying to get up again. "My aunt! Are they alright?!"

"Yes, yes, they're fine. Now lay down for Light's sake. Your mother will have a fit if I let you do something stupid."

At that Taemmur settled, frowning as he watched the other pull away. Then he asked, "Are they really okay, Saran?"

The man blinked then smiled. Leaning forward, Saran replied, "Yes, I promise you that. Your aunt will be down for some time with her injuries but Hresden will be up and about before you know it."

"But they're both fine?"

"Yes, silly boy!" Saran cocked his head to the side then and laughed, "Though you're not much of that anymore. Moved all the way up to Knight, I saw. And someone all respected in Stormwind."

He moved away and Taemmur lifted his head to follow him as the man moved around the room, fiddling idly with the potion bottles and a basket of herbs someone had brought in.

"You…you were there?"

"Briefly for a time. I am, after all, a spy. Just simply one with a more recognizable face that you." Saran paused at that and grimaced. "Well…at least I was. Hres told me about that escape…that could have turned worse easily, you do know that, Taem."

"I know. But I couldn't just let them kill my aunt. You un…"

Saran turned, cutting Taemmur off with a simple look. "Yes," he hissed in a low voice, "I do understand. You know that as well as anyone else."

"I'm sorry. To remind you of her."

"I'm reminded of her every day, Taem."

Taemmur smiled then asked, "What are you even doing here, Nec? If you were in Stormwind…"

"A few weeks ago," intoned the spy with a smile. "My sister still lives there, you know – rather happily and healthy through no thanks to me. And it seems I'm now an uncle."

"Congratulations," said Taemmur.

"I suppose. Her husband isn't that happy with me." Saran smiled as he moved back to settle into the stool next to the low bed. "I made them both aware of just where my loyalties lie. Abi accepts it well enough – she's just happy to have me back. Ricken, her husband, however, is not so fond of it but he knows if he gets me caught, she'll leave him in an instant."

"So you have a family again. That's nice."

"I suppose," said Saran, idly flicking dirt – or maybe blood - out from under his fingernails. "So…you killed your commander I heard. Blade to the heart."

Taemmur's face darkened at that and he growled, "He was going to kill Aunt Alisa. And he wanted to blackmail me into doing it after he found the letter she carried, just so Hres and I could be allowed to stay." He then frowned as Saran rose and began to pace, his gloved hand moved to rub across the leather band on his opposite wrist. "Nec? What is it?"

"Alisa carried a letter, you say," mumbled the rogue. "What sort?"

"I…I don't know. Hres read it. He might still have it…I don't remember if he tossed it away or not."

Saran scowled at that, saying, "The healers found nothing on him, unless he had some special pockets in those robes of his. Robes! Light save, I never thought I'd see him in robes."

Taemmur smiled, "He said it was a requirement for mage's in Stormwind."

"Oh I bet he didn't like that." Saran shook his head then and said, "But nevermind that. Alisa sent with a letter for you two…without you two knowing such, I assume?"

At the young man's nod, he snarled under his breath in the harsh tongue of the Scourge and Taemmur knew something was wrong. He and the rest of their close group were the few that knew the rogue had regained a good portion of his memories from that time. And they all were aware that he only spoke it when something was terribly wrong.

"That is not good," hissed the rogue, continuing to pace. "If they needed to get something to you, I should have been called."

"Where were you?" asked Taemmur curiously.

"Riding back from some scouting in Ashenvale and the Darkshore coast. Watching boats come in from Teldrassil and Azuremyst Isle in case of forces coming from there."

"Anything?"

"Nothing, hence my riding back here to report there was nothing going on. I take it you never heard anything in Stormwind."

Taemmur sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his distinct failure in that once again. "No," he replied mournfully, "nothing but rumors."

"Damn. Damn!"

Saran sighed then said, "Alright, I'm going to call Sai in here…she was sleeping outside when I came in. I need to go talk to the Warchief about this." Frowning seriously, he grumbled, "There is something seriously wrong here."

He ducked out the door before Taemmur could say anything and then a sleepy Chanasai stumbled in, smiling as she sank onto the stool. "Hey you," she said warmly. "Finally awake. Can't believe that damn thing didn't wake me."

"Don't call him that," he grumbled, hating it when people referred to Saran as a thing rather than a person.

The hunter shrugged then said, "Very well. He's just…"

"Sai, _leave it_," snapped Taemmur and she stared at him in surprise. Then she smiled gently and shook her head, long braid swaying behind her.

"You really have grown up, haven't you? Went from the boy I knew to a real man."

"Didn't have much of a choice. Where's Kazhan?"

Chanasai bit her lip and Taemmur scowled, struggling up onto his elbows. His head swam but he pushed past it, snarling, "Sai, where is Kazhan?!"

She frowned then muttered softly, "He died, Taem. After you left, he started traveling with your mother. Whilst she was alone for sometime with just him, she was attacked, nearly killed by a Night Elf ranger. Kazhan saved her but died as he went after the ranger, tearing out his throat – it was a knife near the heart and more than his old body could take."

Taemmur blinked then slumped back onto the bed, closing his eyes as his lifted his arms, pressing the heel of his hands against his aching head. He heard Chanasai lean forward and her voice whisper, "I'm so sorry, Taem…"

"Get out," he hissed. When she didn't start moving, he whipped his arms down and shouted, "GET OUT!"

He heard her rise and leave, the only sound afterwards that his heavy breathing. Fists clenching, he pounded them against the bed until he was panting, tears streaming down his face.

"Kazhan," he hissed to the empty room, feeling like his soul was breaking. The wolf had been his constant companion for as long as he could remember, keeping him out of trouble, staying with him when he was sick. He'd learned to hunt with the wolf as his teacher before his mother had even considered teaching him such.

And now he was gone. Gone for years now.

But he had died protecting his mother…

Taemmur sniffed and wiped a hand across his face, shaking his head at himself. He couldn't be angry at the wolf because of that, even if he was distraught that he was gone. Kazhan had known that as much as he meant to him…his mother meant so much more. He had been smart, his wolf…his friend.

Rolling over and ignoring the pain in his head, Taemmur turned his face into his pillow and blinked as he found the battered old bear sitting there beside it. Smiling, he laughed at himself as he pulled it close, like he was a child seeking comfort again, and buried his nose in its matted fur. The smell of Mulgore was still strongly on it from its being stored in his chest but…who had put it here? Nec? Sai?

Sighing, he stopped wondering about who had brought it and what he looked like right then. Holding the bear close, he just breathed in the scent of Mulgore and closed his eyes, relaxing after a moment.

No matter of anything else, he was home.

No more pretending.

No more walking through the paved streets of Stormwind and wishing they were the dusty paths of Orgimmar or the greenery of Thunder Bluff.

No more worrying about being discovered.

He was _home._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Just to make note, here's the timeline of events for this story and_Bones_ – as well as the short story _Banished_ involving Hresden and Lymalis leaving Theramore. Since I've had a few mention things about the time this is going on. And this is as going by the year dates by the unofficial timeline on WoWWiki (as stated in chapter 1) – I am also ignoring anything involving Wrath of the Lich King since its, y'know, not out. Therefore, in my Warcraft world, it does not exist – Stay on yer damn freezing throne, Arthas! I doan want to level up AGAIN.

YEAR 25: The Plague and the Scourge of Lordaeron

YEAR 28-29: Taemmur is born in Theramore

YEAR 29: Just after book _Cycle of Hatred_, chapter 1 and 2 of this story

YEAR 31: Burning Crusade expansion, _Banished_ occurs early on in this year

YEAR 34: _Bones_ chapter 1, Saran believes he's 27 at this time but he's really lost track of time and in actuality he's 31

YEAR 41: The rest of_Bones_, Taemmur is 13 at the time (note: Kalya had bad age calculating skills – if you've read _Bones_, you prolly remember what I'm talking about)

YEAR 45: Taemmur's leaving of Orgrimmar at 17 - chapters 3 thru 6

YEAR 51: Current year, Taemmur is 23, Hresden is 60, Saran is 48 - chapter 7 on


	9. Plans Within Plans

"_An'she_," murmured a voice in his ear and Taemmur was instantly awake, sitting up in a mild panic. Quickly he turned over and flung his arms around the neck leaning over him, burying his face against the shoulder, breathing in the scent of leather and travel dust. There was a low chuckle then warm arms encircled him. "I have missed you too."

Taemmur just made a noise in his throat, unable to speak for a moment. For one terrifying instant in his sleep, he had dreamt that the leaving of Stormwind had been a dream and he had woken in his own room. But here he was, still in Orgrimmar, and now here was his mother.

Caren smiled and laid her hand over his head, saying, "_An'she_, you are too old for such behavior now."

"I missed you," he choked into her shoulder. "And I…I was so afraid I might end up seeing you one day. Have to fight you."

"But you would have," said Caren, gently pushing him away.

"And hated myself for every moment after!"

"Yet we did not have to. _An'she_, my son, there is nothing to worry about anymore. You are home and safe and that cannot make me happier!"

Taemmur smiled, nodding, then gave a little laugh as she drew him into another hug. Then he frowned and pushed away, asking, "Aunt Alisa…she…"

"I heard as I came back into town. They sent a mage to Thunder Bluff for me and were lucky enough that I had just returned from traveling." Caren smiled and continued, "She's strong, you know that. She will be fine."

Then she too sobered and shook her head slowly.

"Unfortunately, there is a reason they came to get me besides your return."

A tremor of fear traced its way up his spine at those words and he asked, "What? Is it the letter? The one Saran is worried about?"

"Yes," replied Caren. "We are to meet with the Warchief in an hour to hear Hresden speak of it since he is the only one to read it. Both he and Necronim seem to suspect there is a traitor amongst us."

"I should get up and get ready then."

"Indeed. I will leave you to that and return in a moment." She smiled, laughing slightly, as she said, "Travel leathers are no way to go before the Warchief."

"I don't think he'll care about that, Mother," Taemmur said with an answering smile.

Caren lifted a finger at that. "Ah, but I shall. Now dress, _An'she_. Then you can perhaps tell me a little of what you thought of the humans in Stormwind."

He blinked the nodded slowly – it would be nice to be able to talk to someone finally about it besides Hresden.

"I'd like that."

His mother smiled and playfully ruffled his hair, murmuring, "Long hair suits you," before she left the hut. Taemmur listened for a moment to the sound of her hooves outside in the dirt then rose, looking around for his old clothes for a moment. Then he snorted and moved to the set of clothes lying on a chair near the door – loose pants of some coarse material, a white shirt and a leather tunic. With two pairs of well-worn leather boots sitting underneath the chair, one of which looked just the right size.

All probably his mother's doing.

Taemmur chuckled and shook his head as he picked up the clothes and began to dress. Twenty-three years old and she was still determined to take care of him…but he guessed all mothers were like that.

Smiling, he shoved his feet into his boots then actually managed to find a sheathed sword and belt, half-hidden underneath his mattress as he sat back down. Now _that_ was likely Saran's doing…

Slipping the belt around his waist and adjusting the sword, he leaned back on the bed, and frowned thoughtfully at the ceiling as he remembered his mother's words.

_…suspect there is a traitor amongst us…_

Amongst the Alliance there had been himself, Saran, and Hresden…but none of their races could come amongst the Horde. Not even the humans of Theramore with their shaky alliance with Orgrimmar would do that.

So _who_ was conspiring against them?

* * *

"Hres, are you sure you should be up?" asked Taemmur as he saw the mage standing outside Grommash Hold as he and his mother approached. The High Elf was playing with a small wisp of fire with one hand and turned as they approached with a smile.

His turning allowed Taemmur to see that he had obviously just recently gotten up and left wherever he had been since he only had half his shirt on, the other long sleeve hanging down loose behind him. A bandage wound around his left shoulder and that arm hung in a sling in front of him.

"Oh, it was just an arrow to the shoulder," waved off the mage, the wisp of flame disappearing as he moved his hand. "I've had worse. The only reason it's so bad really is that the thing had a barbed tip."

Taemmur winced at the sound of that. He'd accidentally been hit in the leg with one of those arrows when one of the fresh recruits had gotten ideas of grandeur in his head. Those arrows hurt far worse coming out than going in and the wound still had to hurt.

Which it did, he knew by peering close at his friend's face. The few lines that crinkled around the elf's eyes were drawn tight but beyond that Hresden showed no sense of the pain he was in.

"So you say," rumbled Caren. "Why did no one simply heal it?"

"After our leaving of Stormwind, I have the feeling we will need as many healers as rested as we can. That means I forbid you from healing it as well."

She frowned at his adamant tone then said, "We need you at your best as well, my friend."

Hresden snorted at that, intoning, "I can cast just as well with one hand as I can with two. And my sword, as you well know, can channel them just as well as my wand. So that's that, hmm?" He turned towards the Hold entrance then continued, "Now, I think everyone else is already inside."

"You're certain you're alright?" asked Taemmur as they entered.

"Yes, Taem, I am quite sure."

Frowning, he thought about saying something about him lying but that thought was sheared away a moment later. They entered the throne room and there was Thrall at the back, seated and watching what was occurring in front of him. On his right stood Vol'jin, the Troll grinning around his tusks at the occurrence.

"Sylvanas," growled Hresden, grounding to a stop in the doorway. Taemmur heard a low, feline growl from his mother and frowned, blinking at the tableau in front of them.

There was the Banshee Queen, a pale, formidable sight at most times, with her hands twisted into claws at her sides and a look of rage on her face. Facing her at a much shorter height with a smirk on his face, dark blue eyes gleaming, was Saran, clad entirely in weatherworn brown and gray leather that made him blend into any shadows when he was still.

After a moment, Sylvanas exploded, "I will not take that tone from you, creature!"

"Creature?" sneered Saran. "Is that the best you can do these days, Sylvanas? I've been called worse by Murlocs and Gnolls." He mimicked both, the warbling speech of the water creatures and the low rumbles of the wolfish one, then laughed. "I've learned well enough that both of those are worse than 'creature'!"

She looked like she was going to lash out at him then Thrall said, "Cease. We do have grave matters to discuss, Lady Sylvanas."

"So we do," she growled. "It would please me if you could remove this filth from this room."

"He is my spy," intoned the Warchief calmly. "He remains."

Saran smiled and gave Sylvanas a flippant bow before he turned and walked towards the group at the door, motioning idly at Hresden and Caren to calm down.

"Oh, peace, peace," he said warmly.

"You hate her," growled Hresden, his eyes narrowed and glowing somewhat brighter than they normally did.

"So I do," admitted the rogue easily, "but I've found a great deal of enjoyment in bating her over these past years. There have been certain requests from the Undercity only I could carry out and I had to report to her – not my favorite job, mind you. But to see her look like that…" Shaking his head, he grinned ferally as he finished, "Ah, that makes it all worthwhile."

Hresden scowled, the tip of one ear twitching, then shrugged. "If you say so, my friend." He then moved forward, deliberately stepping away from Sylvanas, and bowed slightly towards Thrall. "I suppose it is time for me to report."

The Warchief nodded and in that instant the meeting began.

"Yes," intoned Thrall, "this letter Druid Carentareta's sister tried to bring to you. What did it say?"

"That we were being recalled," replied Hresden. "It laid out all our plans, even so far as to naming Taemmur and myself. My sister it named, calling her out clearly as an outcast of Theramore and myself as a traitor to the Alliance. It told of Taemmur's true name and that the carrier of the letter was his family."

Caren let out a hiss and her eyes flared feline.

"Someone deliberately concocted this!" she snarled. "Someone tried to force my son to kill his own?!"

"I didn't," intoned Taemmur quietly, placing a hand gently on his mother's arm. She calmed somewhat and he continued, "Despite what I swore to do to if need be, I couldn't. Not with us already exposed. And _never_ to get back in the good graces of humans."

Caren calmed at that but her hands still shook in outrage at the thought.

Hresden inclined his head then said, "I have no idea of who would do this. Who _could_ do this."

"Dis mean we has a traitah amongst us," murmured Vol'kin, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Who," rumbled Thrall, "is the question."

Sylvanas sniffed and glared at Saran, who ignored her look, refusing to rise to her bait. The rest ignored her obvious look of whom she suspected as well since all of them – even Vol'jin – were certain of the rogue's loyalties.

Shifting, Saran said, "I could try to get deeper into Stormwind, spy on higher meetings and try to get into the deep libraries. If we have a traitor reporting to the Alliance, they have to be keeping records somewhere. I _know_ SI:7 kept their records deep underneath headquarters on all their spies out and about."

"And if you get caught?" asked Caren even though they all knew what his fate would be.

Shrugging, he replied, "Let them try and kill me by hanging like they were going to originally. I've cultivated an astounding ability to play dead in the past few years."

Taemmur frowned then asked, "Is that what was going to happen to you? Hanging?"

The rogue nodded and slipped the leather band away from his ungloved wrist, revealing the brand that marked him as a thief and murderer. He idly traced a few lines amongst the rest and said softly, "They felt the need to explain the whole meaning of it to me before they branded me. These were for simple record, to say I had been hung. Unlucky for them, I knew my way around the Deeps."

"Though," he stated slowly as he bound the band over the brand again, "that's a far cry from what's important here. I know there are a few objects that can mask a presence or cause one to look like another. But we few here as well as Alisa, Kazmo, and Resden are the only ones who knew where they were going."

"Someone could have come in here and learned it long after the fact," pointed out Hresden. "If they had known about us any sooner, we would have been struck out. Somehow I think it was only Walrick that knew – he was the one to call in Taemmur. If the whole of Stormwind knew it, we would have been taken in at swordpoint…instead Walrick tried his ploy."

Taemmur scowled then hissed, "You think Walrick was trying to get some hold over _me_? Why? He was a Commander and me nothing more than a Knight!"

The elf shook his head and replied, "A very well-loved and respected Knight."

"Not anymore."

"That is not my point. Perhaps Walrick thought that such feelings would make you waver between loyalties. Mayhaps he was going to use you as his own spy, try to turn you into theirs instead of ours." At the snort from the man, the elf smiled. "Not that it matters anymore what he wanted."

"Oh what did the lad do?" asked Saran cheerfully.

"Shoved Aunt Alisa's sword through his heart," answered Taemmur coldly. At his mother's stare, he added, "He was trying to blackmail me into killing her. Much as her and we don't get along on some matters, Mother, we're still family. And with us well and caught with naught but that to get me back into their so-called good graces, I wasn't going to go through with it."

The rogue cocked his head to the side, eying Taemmur appraisingly, then turned sharply towards Thrall. "Something else I should look into, Warchief?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Thrall frowned, leaning over in his chair with his chin propped on one gauntleted fist, then nodded. "Do so," he rumbled. "As well as your other ideas but take a care for being caught."

"They can't kill me no matter how hard they try the normal ways," said Saran with a casual shrug. Caren growled at that and stomped a hoof angrily as she took a step towards him.

"And," she growled out, "if they decide to tear you limb from limb instead? There are some within that city that know you were a Forsaken, Necronim, and they will be well aware that there is no true coming back from that! As refined as your healing capabilities are now, you can still be killed!"

The rogue rocked back on his heels in the wake of her anger, eyes wide, then nodded. He hung his head slightly and said, "Forgive me, Caren. I'm worried and you know I don't rightly think about what I say when I get like that."

"I know, my friend. All I ask is that you be careful."

"I will," promised Saran. He then grinned at Taemmur, clapping him warmly on the shoulder before turning seriously to Hresden. "You be careful, old man. Another inch or two and that arrow would've clipped your heart."

The elf's ears twitched and he smirked before chiding, "I know very well how to take care of myself, whelp. Now get moving."

Saran bowed mockingly in response then moved back them and was out of the Hold and gone. Sylvanas narrowed her eyes after him then sniffed, turning towards Thrall with a sneer. "I cannot see the worth in such a brigand," she hissed softly.

Thrall smiled as he replied, "You have found some use in him as well, I hear, Sylvanas."

"And if there is another necromancer like the last? A creature such as he could be easily controlled…"

"He wasn't the last time," snapped Hresden in annoyance, "and he wouldn't if another rose again. And…" The mage stopped in mid sentence as there was a noise from the doorway behind them and a panting young orc came running in.

"Warchief! There are humans at the gate! Lady Proudmoore is with them!"

"Jaina?" queried Thrall, rising worriedly from his chair. He then frowned and questioned, "No one has harmed them, correct?"

"No, Warchief!"

"Have they said what they wish?"

The young orc's eyes flicked towards Taemmur and he felt all eyes fall on him. He blinked then snarled out a curse in Gutterspeak Resden had taught him years ago.

"This just keeps getting better and better," he grumbled in Orcish, looking around hopelessly.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Anyone questioning Taemmur's reaction to Caren should remember he hasn't seen her since he was seventeen and has been deathly afraid for the years between then and now that he might end up facing her in battle. I'd say he's a little justified for being a bit childish around his mother.


	10. A Head On Confrontation

"So he is yours," said Jaina Proudmoore as Thrall came forward to meet her in the middle of their groups outside Orgrimmar's gates.

The Orc glanced back over his shoulder at Taemmur, who stood between a pensive Hresden and a scowling Chanasai. Caren was notably absent since bringing her outside with her son possibly being threatened wasn't a grand idea.

Having the High Elf or the hunter wasn't safe either but both could temper themselves.

He knew the druid couldn't when her child was threatened.

"He is," confirmed Thrall as he turned back towards her. "They seem to have gotten word swiftly to you."

Jaina smiled tightly and replied, "They sent a group from Stormwind. He killed a Commander, Thrall."

"So I've heard."

"He's human!"

Thrall sighed and said firmly, "He is _Tauren_, Jaina. Our skin means nothing against what we are taught and grow up amongst. I am a product of such if you do not recall."

The mage pursed her lips but nodded in accent to his words.

"I know," she said gently. "But you used him as a spy."

"Who found nothing but rumor. I have others."

"Shielding him could start a _war_," scolded Jaina. "Something none of us want again!"

Thrall frowned at that then moved so he stood beside her, noting the subtle shift of her guards some distance away. Ignoring them, he pointed towards Taemmur, who stiffened, and asked, "Do you see that pair beside him?"

"A Sin'Dorei and one of your scout's if I recognize her correctly," replied Jaina. "Crowstalker."

"Correct except in the fact that the mage is a Quel'dorei."

"Quel'do…!"

"They would die to protect him if need be," hissed Thrall. "He spent the years with him amongst the Alliance and knows him well. And took an arrow in that fight in Stormwind. She taught him how to fire a bow and has always spoken fiercely for him against those that do not speak well."

Jaina frowned and asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," he replied, "if this is how they shall react, how do you assume his mother will?"

"His mother…"

"Tauren and druid. One who once threatened to do to Sylvanas what Malfurion Stormrage did to Xavius in the War of the Ancients."

Jaina muttered something under her breath then gave him a mournful stare. "You know what this will come to then."

"I was aware of it from the moment he was brought here after his reappearance in Thunder Bluff."

She nodded slowly then sighed, "I can't stop this, Thrall."

"I know," he replied softly.

"Stormwind wants him and they're willing to tear down Orgrimmar's gates to get him. And they want my help."

"You could refuse."

"You know I can't," murmured Jaina. "I'm sorry."

Thrall sighed and said, "We must deal with the situations we have. Perhaps though, we can stop this from happening."

"How?"

"Someone betrayed them, Jaina. Either one of yours managed to get in without revealing themselves…or one of ours has turned."

Her eyes widened slightly then she frowned and regained her control. "Knowing the truth might change things," she said softly. "But it might not."

"We can but try," intoned Thrall.

"Yes. I…I will see what I can do, Thrall. What I can find out and do to stall them as well."

"Thank you, Jaina. You might be able to find things easier than we can."

She smiled at that, saying, "I think your gray-clad sneak may be able to find out a fair more than I. But I shall do my best to match him."

Thrall chuckled at that then sobered as he asked, "How long?"

She sobered as well, replying solemnly, "Two weeks at the most. I might be able to managed more but not by much. The Stormwind guard are screaming for blood, Thrall."

"The only way they will gain his is by battle and that will take going through five others at the least."

"I shall hope he has very able defenders then," said Jaina. She then bowed and murmured a goodbye before turning back towards the company of men that had come with her. Most of them he knew as her own with their wearing the Theramore tabard with three had that of Stormwind. And he had taken note that none of their eyes had ever moved from Taemmur.

Slowly he strode back towards the group and noted, "You have made a fair few enemies."

"I heard someone say once that how good you are is told by how good your enemies are and to what amount you have them," intoned Taemmur seriously but a slight note of fear was evident in his voice. "I wasn't expecting this though."

"You could have simply given him to them," noted Hresden, who had sharper ears than most would expect from a mage.

Thrall arched an eyebrow at him and chuckled. "And lose a good handful of the best folk I have, including a truly frightening druid, two mages, and my best spy? I am well aware that is what would happen if I did such."

"True," admitted the mage with a shrug. "What now then, Warchief?"

"We wait," replied Thrall wearily. "Jaina believes she can allow us two weeks time to discover our spy. She will make her own attempts at finding out what she can for us."

"They may brand her a traitor for that if they find out," said Taemmur. "It would be the same as what they did to Kalya."

"You forget, Taem," pointed out Hresden, "that Lady Proudmoore is a mage of great power. They cannot simply to do her what they did to Kalya so easily."

Taemmur scowled at the reminder then nodded before asking, "Isn't there anything we can do?"

Thrall nodded slightly.

"We shall ask your aunt who she spoke to when she wakes," replied the Warchief. "Beyond that, I fear we can do nothing more but wait for news to come and hope."

* * *

**Author's Note: **For those that have not read _Bones_ for whatever reason or forgot, Caren threatened to turn Sylvanas into a tree. Or more technically have a tree grow itself out of her by feeding its growth off of her body. Nasty way to die - and one of the reasons I like Furion. He can do some _wicked_ shit.


End file.
